


Memory Lapse

by telperion_15



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Drama, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-29
Updated: 2010-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-09 18:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip gets into trouble again and Archer is keeping a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set shortly after 'Cogenitor'.
> 
> Spoilers (some minor) for 'Unexpected', 'Oasis', 'Precious Cargo', 'Stigma', 'Cogenitor', 'Dawn', and 'Shuttlepod One'.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enterprise is attacked by unfriendly aliens...again.

Jonathan Archer grabbed hold of the armrest of his chair and held on for grim death as yet another barrage of weapons fire rocked Enterprise.

"Port and aft hull-plating are offline," reported Lieutenant Reed from tactical. "Our port nacelle won't withstand another hit."

"Evasive manoeuvres!" barked Archer at Travis Mayweather, the helmsman. "Keep our starboard side towards the enemy."

"Aye, sir," replied Travis, proceeding to execute a series of tight turns, narrowly avoiding several more bursts of weapons fire from the enemy ship.

The insistent chirping of the comm chose that moment to make itself heard above all the other noise.

"Tucker to the Bridge."

"Archer here. What is it, Trip?"

"What the hell is goin' on up there, Cap'n?" asked the engineer, his drawling southern accent even more pronounced under stress.

"Our newest friends have turned out to be not so friendly," Archer told him grimly.

"Well, I'm not sure how much more of this the engines can take," said Tucker worriedly. "Any chance we'll be winnin' this fight any time soon?"

"We're doing everything we can, Trip," replied Archer. "You just do everything you can to keep the engines under…" He was interrupted as the ship lurched violently again, nearly throwing Archer from his chair. A shower of sparks erupted from one of the tactical consoles, but the Captain was far more concerned about the resounding explosion that had echoed over the still open comm link.

"Archer to Tucker. Trip, can you hear me?" yelled Archer desperately.

"The port nacelle is heavily damaged," reported T'Pol in her clipped Vulcan tones. "It is logical to assume that there is significant destruction in Engineering also."

"Contact Phlox and have him get down there with a medical team," Archer instructed her. "I want a report on the status of our people as soon as possible." Swinging round, he addressed Malcolm. "What's the status of the other ship?"

"Our last phase canon volley impaired their engines," replied Reed. "And their last shot burned out their weapons relays. It was purely luck on their part that they managed to hit our nacelle. Neither of us is in any position to cause any more damage to the other."

"Captain," said Hoshi suddenly. There's a ship approaching at warp two. It's Anarian."

Archer groaned inwardly. Enterprise couldn't withstand any more fighting…hell, she couldn't even move with one nacelle down. If this ship turned out to be a friend of the first one, they were all goners.

"Captain." Hoshi sounded surprised this time. "They're hailing us."

"Open a channel," ordered Archer, wondering at the same time if the view screen was still functional. But apparently it was, as an image of Ambassador M'Nor flickered into view.

"Captain Archer, are you and your crew alright?" the Ambassador asked immediately.

"Do we look alright?" replied Archer. He was angry, and he didn't bother to hide it. "I was under the impression that we had parted on friendly terms earlier," he said. "You said that you hoped Earth and Anaria could become great friends in the future."

"And I still hope for that, I can assure you," said M'Nor. "The Anarian Government did not authorise this attack on your ship. The other ship is part of a militant separatist group from our planet. Obviously they have taken a dislike to you. We do not condone their behaviour, and you can rest assured that their punishment will be severe when we return them to Anaria. I am truly sorry for the damage done to your ship, Captain, and if there is anything we can do to assist with repairs, you have only to ask."

Somewhat mollified, Archer said: "thank you, Ambassador, but I'm sure my Chief Engineer can do what needs to be done."

Suddenly, however, Archer remembered the explosion in Engineering. Who was to say that his Chief Engineer was even alright? Trip might be lying dead at this very moment. Worry asserted itself, and Archer had a hard time concentrating on what M'Nor was saying as she bid him goodbye and again promised severe retribution for all the rebels on the attacking ship.

As soon as the Anarian ambassador's image had disappeared from the view screen, Archer pushed the comm button again.

"Archer to Engineering." There was a pause in which Archer hoped desperately that the next thing he would hear would be Trip's voice. Instead, he heard that of his Chief Medical Officer.

"This is Doctor Phlox, Captain. I'm afraid Commander Tucker is unable to talk at the moment. In fact, he is unable to do much of anything."

Archer's worry increased a hundredfold. "What's the matter with him, Doctor?" he asked.

Phlox must have heard the worry in Archer's voice, because he hastened to reassure the Captain. "There is no need to be overly anxious, Captain," he said. "Commander Tucker was thrown backwards by an exploding relay and hit his head. He is suffering from a mild concussion and some minor burns, nothing more. He is, however, unconscious, so I will be taking him back to sickbay for monitoring until he awakes."

Greatly relieved, Archer nonetheless had to restrain his impulse to rush down to sickbay to be with Trip. As the Captain, there were many other things that currently needed his attention, no matter how worried he might be about his friend. Trip was in capable hands, and his injuries weren't serious. Turning his attention as much as he was able from his friend's condition, Archer set about putting his ship to rights.

* * *

Five hours later Archer was sitting in his ready room, going through the damage reports sent to him by all the different departments on the ship. The biggest casualties of the attack were the hull plating in the port and aft quadrants and, of course, the port nacelle. Other than that Enterprise had remained relatively unscathed. Lieutenant Reed estimated that it would only be another four hours before the hull plating could be put to use again. However, the news from Engineering was less encouraging. The nacelle had taken heavy damage from the enemy weapons, and Lieutenant Hess, Trip's second-in-command, believed that it would take a while to fix. They would probably have impulse by tomorrow, but it could be as much as five days before they could go to warp. Archer cursed whichever god it was that had put Trip in sickbay yet again. Tucker was a wiz with the warp engine, and Archer had no doubt that Hess's estimate would be halved if Trip was heading the repair team. Hess was a competent engineer, there was no doubt about that, but she didn't have Trip's 'sixth sense' when it came to the engines.

Thinking about the situation in Engineering reminded Archer that he hadn't had an update on Trip's condition from Phlox in quite a while. However, just as he was reaching for his comm pad, it forestalled him by beeping.

"Phlox to the Captain."

"Archer here. Do you have an update for me, Doctor?"

"Indeed I do." Was it Archer's imagination, or had Phlox hesitated slightly before replying? And his tone of voice definitely did not sound encouraging.

"Is there something the matter, Doctor?"

Phlox cleared his throat, a trifle nervously, Archer thought. "Well, Commander Tucker has regained consciousness. However, there are some unexpected side effects to his accident."

"What kind of side effects?" asked Archer suspiciously. All the worry he had felt several hours before suddenly reasserted itself. "Is Trip alright?"

"Physically, he is fine," replied Phlox, and then paused. "Perhaps you'd better come and see for yourself, Captain. He may be reassured by your presence."

Thoroughly disturbed by now, Archer barely had time to acknowledge Phlox's request before he was out of his seat and on his way to sickbay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some unfortunate side effects of Trip's accident.

As the sickbay doors slid open, Archer steeled himself for the worst, although he couldn't even begin to imagine what the worst might be. Phlox had said that Trip was fine physically, so that meant…no, he didn't even want to think about it.

As he entered sickbay, Doctor Phlox accosted him. "Captain, if I might have a quiet word with you…" But Archer was already heading for the screened biobed where he knew Trip must be. Phlox hurried after him.

"Captain, I really must ask you to…" But he was interrupted by a raised voice coming from the other side of the screen.

"Get the hell away from me!" It was Trip's voice, and by the sound of it, he was extremely panicked. Archer flung back the screen, expecting to see a medical assistant attempting to 'cure' the engineer by using a member of Phlox's mysterious menagerie. Instead, he was confronted by the sight of an obviously very scared Trip Tucker huddling in a corner, while Crewman Cutler stood over him with a hypospray.

"Crewman!" barked Archer. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Cutler started, and then visibly quailed in the face of the Captain's anger. She seemed lost for words, but luckily Phlox came to her rescue. "She is simply trying to give Commander Tucker a sedative, Captain," he said. "But Mr. Tucker is not feeling very receptive to treatment at the moment, as you can see. If you would accompany me to my office, I can explain…"

But once again Archer ignored him. Crouching down in front of Trip, he adopted his most reasonable tone. "Come on now, Trip. It's just a sedative. What are you so scared of?" He held out his hand, intending to help the engineer up, but was surprised when, instead of accepting the offer of help, Trip attempted to scuttle even further back into his corner.

"Who are you?"

His surprise increasing, Archer replied: "It's me, Trip, your friend. Jonathan Archer."

"I don't know you."

Shocked, and now more than a little frightened, Archer at last turned to face Phlox. "What the hell is the matter with him, Doctor?" he asked. "Why doesn't he know me?"

"Commander Tucker is suffering from amnesia, Captain," replied Phlox.

"What?"

"If you'd care to come into my office, I can explain the situation a little more fully. The presence of so many people is obviously not helping the Commander's state of mind."

Once in Phlox's office, the Doctor offered Archer a seat, but Archer opted instead to pace backwards and forwards.

"How can he possibly have amnesia, Doctor? You said all he had was a mild concussion."

"Obviously the blow to his head was more severe than we first thought," replied Phlox. "Commander Tucker has no idea who he is, or even where he is. He does not know who you are, who I am, and he certainly does not remember anything about Enterprise or our mission. I should imagine he is feeling very frightened and disorientated right about now."

"I can see he's frightened, Doctor," said Archer exasperatedly. "The question is: what can we do about it?"

"Well, archaic Earth comedy often suggests that a second bump on the head will restore an amnesiac's memory," mused Phlox. But at the outraged look on Archer's face, he hurriedly added: "But of course I would never condone such barbaric behaviour. No, I'm afraid there is no medical procedure that will cure Commander Tucker. All we can do is wait, and hope his memory comes back on its own. The fact that he is in familiar surroundings, with all his friends around him, should help. In fact, Captain, you could be instrumental to his recovery. As his best friend you can inform him about his life, both past and present."

"See if I can jog his memory, is that what you're saying?" asked Archer.

"Exactly, Captain!"

"But isn't that going to be a little hard, Doctor? I mean, at the moment he won't let anyone near him – not even me."

"Well, of course, you're going to have to gain his trust first. But hopefully that won't be too difficult. It may be that some residual instinctive feeling would lead him to trust you above everyone else anyway."

A renewed burst of shouting suddenly echoed through sickbay.

"But first, Captain, I would appreciate it if you could try and calm him down enough so I can treat him."

* * *

"Trip?"

Archer had managed to persuade Crewman Cutler and Doctor Phlox to leave him alone with the engineer for a while. The last thing Trip needed was to associate Archer with a lot of scary people holding even more scary medical instruments. And he suspected that the fact that Doctor Phlox was Denobulan wasn't helping any, since Trip couldn't even remember first contact with the Vulcans.

"Trip, there's nothing to be afraid of. No one here is going to hurt you." The engineer had backed even further into his corner by this point, and was looking very much as if he was wishing he could go one step further, and back through the wall behind him.

"Trip, my name is Jonathan Archer. I'm your friend. Your best friend. Don't you remember me?" Archer had decided to keep things personal for the moment. There was no point in confusing Trip further by telling him that Archer was also the Captain of a spaceship that was currently a hundred light years from Earth.

"I don't know you." Trip repeated his previous conviction.

"I know you don't know me at the moment. But you did. Very well. We were best buddies, you and me. I would never do anything to hurt you. You have to trust me." But when Trip still didn't look particularly convinced, Archer had to resort to his next tactic. Pulling out a padd, he showed it to Trip. It contained a catalogue of pictures from Archer's own photo album that showed him and Trip together. "Look at these. Don't these prove that we know each other? That we're friends?"

Archer watched as Trip slowly scrolled through the pictures, hoping that Trip wouldn't think he had somehow faked the images in order to gain his trust. Finally, Trip handed the padd back, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Jonathan, right?"

"That's right. But you normally call me Jon." Again, Archer decided that Trip didn't need the added pressure that would come with informing him that for the past two years he had actually been calling Archer 'Cap'n'.

"Jon. I like that. It suits you." Trip thought for a minute. "Well, Jon, it seems I'd better decide to trust you. I sure don't have anyone else on my side at the moment."

"But Trip, everyone here is on your side," explained Archer, trying to ignore how nice it felt to be called by his name instead of his rank. "You're well liked here. Everyone only wants to help you."

Trip leaned forward slightly. "Even that funny lookin' doctor? What's his deal, anyway? He looks like an alien or somethin'."

Archer tried hard to keep his expression neutral, but something in his face must have clued Trip in. His eyes widened.

"You mean he is an alien? Shit, Jon, where exactly am I?"

Archer swallowed. He had been hoping to keep the revelation of Enterprise and her mission for a little later, but in retrospect that now seemed like a foolish hope. Of course Trip was going to notice the things that he definitely wouldn't find on Earth. Some of them were pretty hard to miss, after all. Like the void filled with stars that he would see every time he looked out of a window, for example.

"Uh, well, you're on a spaceship," Archer began tentatively.

"Wow, are we orbiting the Earth!" Trip interrupted him excitedly. "I'd sure love to see the continents from space!"

"Well, not exactly," said Archer. "We're a little further away from Earth than that."

Trip narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How far?" he asked.

"About a hundred light years."

"What! A hundred light years! How the hell did we get way out here?"

And Archer had no choice but to fill him in on everything that had happened since Zephram Cochrane had successfully completed the first warp flight nearly a century ago. The telling of that story took quite some while, and by the time he was done Archer was thoroughly cramped from sitting on the floor. Trip, however, didn't seem to have noticed that he was still curled up in a corner. As the story had progressed, the expression on his face had shown a mixture of excitement and apprehension. And that was even though Archer had purposely edited the tale to miss out some of the more extreme elements, like their continuous run-ins with the Suliban, or the fact that Trip himself had been the first ever human male to get pregnant.

"So you're tellin' me that I'm the Chief Engineer aboard the…Enterprise?" Trip looked at Archer to check that he had got the name right. Archer nodded his confirmation. "And you're the Cap'n?" When Archer nodded again he uttered a muted "wow." Looking slightly overwhelmed (and Archer couldn't blame him), Trip suddenly scrambled to his feet. Archer stood too, his limbs protesting at the ill-treatment they had received over the past hour or so.

"Trip, are you okay?"

"It's a lot to take in, Jon. I need to think all this through. After all, you could be pullin' my leg. This could all be some elaborate ploy." Flashing Archer a grin to show he didn't really mean it, Trip pulled back the screen around the biobed. "Doc, you can come in here now."

Doctor Phlox appeared so quickly that Archer was sure he had been eavesdropping the whole time. "Ah, Commander, glad to see you're feeling a little better. Perhaps you would allow me to check your injuries now. I don't think we'll be requiring the sedative any more."

Trip submitted to the exam, but he was clearly still apprehensive about being treated by an alien doctor, as was indicated by the number of times Phlox had to tell him to relax. But eventually the examination was over.

"And now, Captain, I'm sure you've got other work to do. I'd like to keep Commander Tucker in overnight for observation, but he should be able to return to his quarters tomorrow if all goes well."

But at this pronouncement the panicked look came back on to Trip's face again. "You're not leavin', Jon?" he said desperately. "I don't want to stay here alone."

"But you won't be alone, Trip. Doctor Phlox will be here." But Trip's expression showed clearly what he thought of that situation, and Archer gave in, like he always did when it came to Trip. "Can't I take him back to his quarters, Doctor?" he asked. "Surely he'd be much more comfortable in more familiar surroundings. And I'll stay with him all night. If something goes wrong, I'll call you straight away."

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt," mused Phlox. "He probably would be more at ease in his own quarters. Although he spends so much time in sickbay as it is that I'm surprised he doesn't see it as a second home. Yes, I don't see why not. Let me just give you some fresh dressings for his burns. They need to be changed every six hours."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer thinks about what Trip's amnesia really means.

Entering Trip's quarters, Archer stumbled over a pile of dirty clothes. However, before he could fall too far, a hand grabbed his arm.

"Guess I'm one of those 'messy' people, huh?" Trip asked sheepishly.

Archer looked around at the devastation that was Trip's living area. "Actually, this is pretty tidy for you," he replied. "Normally you can't see any of the floor." Smiling to show he was joking, Archer moved further into the room. "Well, this is where you live," he informed Trip, gesturing grandly to the rather small space.

"It's…uh…a little cramped, isn't it?" said Trip.

"You should count yourself lucky," said Archer. "Most people on this ship have to share." Trip's eyes widened. "And even my quarters aren't much bigger than this. Although I do have a double bed."

Trip's gaze followed Archer's to the bed. "Er, Jon, you said you were goin' to stay here tonight to keep an eye on me, right?"

"Yes?" replied Archer, wondering uneasily where this was leading.

"Well, where are you gonna sleep?" asked Trip. "I mean, I guess we could just about share the bed if you didn't mind bein' a little squashed." However, the expression on Trip's face clearly showed that, even though he had decided to trust Archer, he didn't relish the prospect of getting that close to someone who was, to all intents and purposes, now a stranger to him.

Archer hurried to reassure him. "Don't worry, Trip, the floor is fine for me."

Trip looked guilty. "Are you sure? I feel bad that I don't have anywhere more comfortable for you to sleep."

"It's fine. The floor of your quarters is a lot more comfortable than some of places I've had to sleep."

Looking relieved, Trip perched on the edge of his bed, bouncing a little to test its softness. He grimaced. "Actually, this bed doesn't feel a lot softer than the floor. Maybe I should let you have it, after all," he joked, with a wry smile.

"You'd be surprised what you get used to," replied Archer. Then, seeing Trip was trying desperately to hide a yawn, he continued: "I think it's time you got some rest. Give me a couple of minutes to locate some blankets in the depths of your closet, and then we can both get some shut-eye."

Trip began to protest, but Archer held up a hand. "You've had a very stressful time of it today," he said. "Not to mention all the new information you've had to process. And tomorrow's definitely not going to be a walk in the park. You need to get some sleep, and then we'll figure out how we're going to handle this situation."

His protests overruled, Trip began stripping off his dirty clothes, tossing them on the pile that Archer had already stumbled over. Archer smiled slightly to see that, even though Trip had lost his memory, his messy instincts were still in perfect working order. Turning away slightly to give his friend some privacy, Archer began rooting around in Trip's closet for some blankets. Eventually he found some under a heap of crumpled uniforms.

"Oh well," he joked. "At least they're clean." But there was no response. Turning around, Archer saw that Trip hadn't waited for him to finish his search. He had fallen asleep. Smiling fondly, Archer arranged his blankets on the floor, shoving several piles of Trip's belongings to one side in the process. Then he quickly stripped off his own clothes, folding them neatly over the back of a chair. Turning out the lights, he settled down on the blankets, and tried to compose himself for sleep.

But he couldn't. Now that he had nothing with which to occupy himself, he couldn't stop the thoughts that were whirling round and round inside his head. All day he had been worried about Trip – when he would wake up, whether he would be alright. He had tried to concentrate on the aftermath of the fight with the Anarian rebels as a way to take his mind off his worry, but his thoughts always came back to Trip.

And then he had found out about Trip's amnesia. And all his thoughts had been focused on trying to make Trip feel comfortable; trying to lessen his friend's fear; trying to help him. But now Trip was asleep, Archer didn't have to worry about that anymore – at least, not until tomorrow. And so his own feelings took the opportunity to come to the fore.

He was devastated. He couldn't deny it. He had lost his best friend. Except that he hadn't. It was so confusing. Trip was still here, except without everything that made him Trip. The man had no knowledge of who he was, and therefore he wasn't really Trip.

'He's got to still be in there somewhere,' Archer thought to himself. 'I refuse to believe that the Trip I know is gone forever. I will help him remember who he is, even if it takes the rest of our lives.'

However, deep inside there was one tiny part of Archer that felt relief. It so disgusted him that he had tried to deny it the second the feeling had made itself known. But he had been unable to, and the feeling had festered inside him, making him feel more reprehensible with every passing moment.

Archer had been harbouring a guilty secret for years now. One that he could never tell Trip, simply because Trip _was_ the secret. The simple truth was that Jonathan Archer loved with his best friend. And he didn't just love him as he would any friend – he was _in love_ with him. However, he knew Trip would never reciprocate, and so he had buried his feelings, hiding them from his friend as well as he was able.

But now that deception wouldn't be such a struggle. Sure, he would still have to keep his feelings hidden. There was no way that Trip's amnesia was going to alter his predilection for women – heterosexuality was so ingrained into Trip that he eyed up practically every woman that crossed his path. Hell, Archer had even noticed him checking out T'Pol once or twice, despite his very vocal disapproval of her. And there was no doubt that Trip had had his share of encounters with women during their mission – Liana, Kaitaama, and Feezal, to name but a few.

No, Archer wasn't about to tell Trip about his feelings, but at least this new Trip wouldn't be able to pick up on the oddities in Jon's character that came with trying to hide them. In fact, there were two instances from this very evening that proved his point. When Trip had offered, albeit reluctantly, to share his bed with Jon, Archer had been unable to repress the slight flush that had crept into his cheeks at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as Trip. Although sleeping wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he thought about 'sleeping' with Trip.

And when Trip had stripped off in order to get into bed, Archer had had to turn hurriedly away, suddenly becoming very much occupied with finding some blankets, simply so he wouldn't have to look a Trip's naked body.

There was a good chance that the old Trip would have picked up on these lapses – in fact, the old Trip had come perilously close to exposing Jon's secret once or twice, simply because Jon couldn't think fast enough to explain his occasional slips. This new Trip, however, hadn't appeared to notice anything out of the ordinary at all.

Still, Archer knew that, no matter how much Trip's amnesia might make his life easier, he wouldn't be able to rest until he had helped Trip remember. He wanted his friend back, and the thought that even a tiny part of him could be opposed to that made him feel sick.

Sighing, Archer resigned himself to a sleepless night. He knew he needed rest almost as much as Trip did, but apparently his brain wasn't going to switch off. So instead, he tried to think about what tomorrow might bring. He had to inform the senior staff, as well as the rest of the crew, about Tucker's situation. As of now, the only people who knew about Trip's amnesia were himself, Doctor Phlox, and Crewman Cutler. He didn't relish breaking the news to everyone that Enterprise had lost her Chief Engineer, perhaps permanently, but at least he knew they would all be supportive – even T'Pol, in her Vulcan way. Even more, he dreaded contacting Starfleet to apprise them of the situation. He had no idea what their reaction would be, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be good.

Heartache and worry knawing away at him, Jonathan Archer stared into the darkness, for once in his life not knowing what to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer informs his officers of Trip's amnesia.

Jonathan Archer awoke to find himself confronted with the sight of a very tousled and sexy looking Trip Tucker. Clad in nothing put a pair of very old sweatpants, Trip was sat at his desk, apparently lost in thought, which allowed Archer ample opportunity to stare. Soon, however, the guilt kicked in, and Archer realised that he shouldn't be taking advantage of Trip's situation in such a way. Softly, he cleared his throat. Trip started and looked around.

"Sorry, Trip," Archer apologised. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"That's okay, Jon. I was off in a world of my own." He waved a padd to demonstrate. "I was just lookin' at some of my personal files, tryin' to get a handle on who I am, y'know?"

"That's a good idea," agreed Archer. "Anything coming back to you yet?"

"Not a thing," sighed Trip. "I mean, I'm readin' all this stuff about me – about my family, my career – and I believe that it's true, but I don't _know_ that it's true. Do you understand what I'm sayin'?"

"It's completely understandable, Trip. It's okay to be confused. But hopefully all this information will jog something in your memory soon. And I'll help you in any way I can. Show you things; answer any questions you might have. Do you have any questions?"

Trip sighed again. "I have a hundred, Jon," he replied "There are so many I don't know where to start. Although…"

"Yes?" prompted Archer.

"Nah, you'll think it's stupid."

"Trip, I promise I won't think it's stupid."

"Well, I was just wonderin' why you call me Trip. I mean, in all my files I'm called Charles Tucker III. Where does 'Trip' come from?"

Archer chuckled. "It's short for 'Triple'," he said. But when Trip still looked blank, he continued: "Because you're Charles Tucker the _third_. Triple, see?"

"Oh," said Trip. He looked relieved. "I thought it was goin' to be because I'm always fallin' over, or somethin' like that."

Archer laughed again. "Don't worry. You're normally perfectly steady on your feet."

Trip narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, 'normally'?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, you sometimes have a few problems when you're drunk," Archer explained. "I remember one time in San Francisco when…" But he was interrupted by the chirp of the comm.

"Phlox to Captain Archer."

"Archer here."

"How is our patient this morning, Captain?"

"He's okay, Doctor. There were no emergencies during the night."

"In any case, I'd like to check up on him. If you could bring him to sickbay, I'd be most grateful."

"No problem, Doctor. I'll drop him in on my way to the Bridge."

Closing the comm link, Archer noticed that Trip was grimacing. "What's the matter?" he asked

"Well, firstly, I _can_ speak for myself, you know. And secondly, do I really have to go back to sickbay? That doctor gives me the creeps a little."

"Phlox is one of the nicest people you could ever hope to meet, Trip. Plus, if he creeps you out, then you're never going to want to meet the Suliban. Or the Klingons. Or the…in fact, maybe you should just never leave your quarters."

"Maybe I should just never leave them anyway," muttered Trip. "It's obvious I don't have a clue what's goin' on out here. I mean, who are the Suliban? Or the Klingons? Maybe I should just stay in here where I can't cause any more trouble."

"Trip, don't be stupid," replied Archer. "You'll remember eventually. But not by staying in these quarters. Besides, this shade of grey has the ability to drive a man insane. You don't believe me? Try staring at it for more than five minutes. The monotony will send you crazy."

That elicited a smile. "Okay," said Trip. "I won't stay in here for ever. I am already starting to feel a little grey. But do I still have to go and see the doc?"

Archer assumed his sternest expression. "Yes."

* * *

Archer looked around the situation room at his senior staff, and wondered how what he was about to tell them would affect them. T'Pol, Malcolm, Hoshi and Travis were all there. They were only waiting for one more person to join them. But that person wasn't going be whom they were expecting. Archer was just beginning to wonder how much longer they would have to wait when Lieutenant Hess arrived.

"Sorry, Captain," she apologised. "There was a minor power outage on C-deck. It's all under control now, but it took a little longer to fix than I anticipated."

But Archer wasn't really listening to her. Instead he was watching for his officers' reactions. And he wasn't disappointed. Hoshi and Travis had exchanged looks, Malcolm looked like he was on the point of demanding an explanation, and one of T'Pol's eyebrows had arched so high it had almost disappeared into her hair. Clearly, they were all wondering where Trip was. Archer decided not to keep them waiting any longer.

"I've asked Lieutenant Hess to be here today because, until further notice, she is the acting Chief Engineer on Enterprise," he explained.

There was a round of shocked gasps, and then Malcolm demanded: "But where's Trip – I mean, Commander Tucker?"

"Commander Tucker is currently unable to perform his duties," said Archer. "The results of his accident yesterday were a little more severe than Doctor Phlox anticipated. He has amnesia."

This time there was a shocked silence. It was almost as if they were all waiting for the punch line. Archer hurried to fill the void.

"Physically, Trip is fine. But he can't remember anything about his life up to now, whether on Earth or on board the Enterprise. I've managed to gain his trust, but he's still very jumpy, obviously. I'm going to need all of your assistance to help him remember who he is. You can all tell him things about his life on Enterprise – fill him in on the facts, and so forth. But you can also just be there for him, as his friends. And what he needs most right now is friends. People to make him feel he's not alone."

More silence. Archer waited expectantly. And was surprised when T'Pol was the first to speak up.

"Commander Tucker and I have not always seen eye-to-eye," she said. "But he is a valuable member of this crew, and we will do all we can to help him recover."

There was a muted chorus of "here-heres" from everyone else. Obviously they were still in shock over the news.

"I'll try to re-introduce Trip to you all over the next couple of days," said Archer. "I don't think descending on him en-masse is the way to go here. A crowd of people would only make him more nervous. Dismissed."

As a procession of very shell-shocked looking officers filed out of the situation room, Archer drew T'Pol aside.

"Well, that wasn't really the reaction I was hoping for," he said.

"As I said, Captain, the Commander is invaluable to this ship," replied T'Pol. "Both in a professional and personal capacity. His loss will greatly affect everyone, but once they have dealt with their initial shock, rest assured that they will be only too happy to assist Commander Tucker. They will not desert their friend, even if he is not strictly their friend any more."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer makes a tough decision, but Trip isn't willing to accept defeat.

Archer sat back in his ready-room chair, stunned by what Admiral Forrest had just told him.

Earlier, he had left Trip reading yet more of his personal logs, and made his way to the Bridge. But he had only been there for about five minutes when Hoshi had informed him that there was an incoming transmission from the Admiral. Archer had of course informed Forrest about Trip's condition, but that had been two days ago, and Forrest had said something about needing to consult with other members of Starfleet before reaching a conclusion. That had sounded ominous to Archer, but he had all but forgotten about it in his efforts to help Trip. Now he was wishing that he hadn't ever contacted the Admiral, even though that would have flouted every rule in the book.

Forrest had begun by offering his apologies for keeping Archer waiting, and his sympathies for Trip's situation. And then he had dropped his bombshell.

"I can't allow Commander Tucker to remain on Enterprise, Jon. Not only does he now not make a useful contribution, but he's now a liability too. He doesn't know any of our procedures or rules. He's putting himself and others at risk by remaining in a situation he doesn't have a clue how to handle. I'm sorry, Jon, but you'll have to turn Enterprise around and bring him back. Rest assured that we'll do all we can to help him once he's back on Earth."

Archer had tried to protest, but Forrest had been unwavering in his decision. Trip had to leave the Enterprise. And that meant Archer had to as well. For there was no way he was letting Trip return to Earth alone. Trip needed a familiar face. And Jon needed Trip. Archer knew he couldn't survive out here in space without his best friend. He had joked about the grey walls sending a man crazy, but the truth was that he _would_ go crazy without Trip. Not seeing the man he loved every day would drive him insane.

So Jonathan Archer was resigning his commission as Captain of the Enterprise. He would take a day to compose his letter of resignation, and then he would transmit it to Admiral Forrest. The thought of leaving Enterprise created a gaping hole in his heart, but when he thought about leaving Trip it felt as though his heart had been ripped out and stamped on by a particularly angry Klingon. And that was a feeling he couldn't live with.

Archer sighed and rose to his feet. Now all he had to do was figure out how to tell Trip.

* * *

"I was pregnant!" said an outraged voice as Archer let himself into Trip's quarters.

Despite his anxiety, Archer had to laugh. The look of dismay on Trip's face was so comical.

"Yep, you were the first human male ever to get knocked up," he replied. "You should be proud. It's an achievement that no other man will probably ever attain."

"Proud, my ass!" said Trip. "I'm startin' to think that maybe losin' my memory was a good thing. I seem to have gotten myself into a lot of situations that don't bear rememberin'."

"Don't say that, Trip," said Archer, suddenly all seriousness again. "There have been plenty of good times that you should want to remember." The idea that Trip might not want to remember his former life filled Jon with fear. He desperately wanted…no, needed…the old Trip to return.

"Hey, Jon," said Trip, reaching out to give Archer's shoulder a squeeze. "I was only jokin'. Of course I want to get my memory back. It's drivin' me crazy not knowin' who I am; readin' about my life on a screen instead of knowin' about it in my head. That's why I count myself lucky that you're here. I know from my point-of-view we haven't known each other very long, but I believe you when you say we're best friends – and even without a memory I still feel close to you. I need you, Jon. I need you to help me remember who I am."

"I'm glad you feel that way, Trip," replied Archer, forcing the words past a sudden lump in his throat. "I want to you to know that I'm not going to leave you. Wherever we end up, I promise I'll be there to help you."

"What do you mean, wherever we end up?" asked Trip suspiciously. "What's happened, Jon?"

Evidently the new Trip was just as perceptive as the old one, when the clues were there. "We're going back to Earth, Trip," said Archer, deciding not to beat around the bush. "You're being taken off Enterprise, and your Starfleet commission is being suspended until further notice."

"You mean, until I get my memory back," Trip translated. Then something clicked into place in his mind. "But I can't go back to Earth," he continued frantically. "I don't know anyone there any more. There'll be no one there who knows me well enough to help me. No one like you."

"But I'll still be able to help you, Trip."

"No, you won't. You'll have to leave again when Enterprise does, to continue the mission. You'll fly away, and I'll be alone."

"I don't have to go anywhere, Trip," said Archer quietly.

Realisation dawned. "No, Jon, you can't!"

"I can do whatever I like."

"But resign your commission? Listen, I may not have known you very long, but you've told me a lot about yourself and Enterprise, and I've read a lot of logs over the past few days. Enterprise means everything to you. I won't let you give up your life for me."

"But a minute ago you were saying that you didn't want to be left alone."

"There's a big difference between my staying on Enterprise, and your staying on Earth."

Archer sighed tiredly. "Trip, there's no way you can stay on Enterprise. Believe me, I tried to persuade Admiral Forrest, but I drew a blank. You have to go back to Earth, and so I have to go with you. There is no other option."

"Yes, there is."

"Trip, I just told you…"

Trip interrupted him. "How long will it take Enterprise to get back to Earth?"

"About a month," replied Archer.

"Then that'll have to do."

"Do for what?" asked Archer, confused.

"Since I can't stay on Enterprise," Trip explained, "and there's no way I'm letting you stay on Earth, we have only one other choice."

"And that is?" asked Archer again.

"We have precisely one month to get my memory back."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trip finds out some important things.

Trip was confused. More so than usual, that is.

Three weeks had passed since Admiral Forrest had informed Jon of the necessity of bringing Trip back to Earth, and every day Trip had worked hard to recover his lost memories. Jon had helped enormously, but he had also encouraged Trip to spend time with his other friends. Malcolm Reed, Hoshi Sato and Travis Mayweather had all pitched in with gusto; determined, it seemed, to try every technique known to man to help Trip get his memory back. As his second closest friend on the ship, Malcolm had been able to fill him in on all those stories Jon didn't know about – and Trip had been surprised to discover how many of them there were. Hoshi had plied him with all his favourite foods, informing him that a familiar smell could sometimes act as a trigger to recovering amnesiacs. And Travis had taken him to his 'sweet spot' – a compartment where a freak in the gravity plating allowed a person to sit on the ceiling. The young helmsman seemed to think that hanging upside down might have a positive effect.

But the biggest surprise had been T'Pol, the Vulcan Science Officer. Initially, Trip had found her cold and unforgiving, and he had believed Jon straight away when he said that the Chief Engineer and the Sub-Commander didn't always see eye-to-eye. However, Trip had quickly revised his opinion of her when she offered to help him. He still found her to be far too logical and unemotional, but he greatly appreciated her attempts to teach him some Vulcan meditation techniques, in the hope that, as she put it, "a more disciplined mind might be able to recall more easily what has been lost."

Trip enjoyed spending time with all of these people. Even his meditation sessions with T'Pol helped him calm his mind and relax. And he knew that each of them was playing a valuable part in helping him regain his memories.

So why did he want to spend so much time with Jon? He didn't need to, that was for sure. He'd learned his way around the ship weeks ago, so he didn't need Jon as a guide. He felt sure he'd heard just about every story about his life prior to Enterprise that Jon could tell (although, on second thoughts, he wasn't so sure about that). And he no longer felt like he would be completely alone if Jon left him – he had plenty of other people surrounding him with trust and friendship now.

But the fact remained that, every time he had a spare evening, he would spend it with Jon. If Jon was in the mess hall, Trip would always sit with him. He even knew when Jon was and wasn't on duty, so he could make sure he dropped by when he knew Jon would be in his quarters.

It didn't make any sense. He barely knew Jon any better than anyone else on Enterprise. Sure, Jon could tell him a lot more about his life than anyone else, but from Trip's point-of-view, he'd known everyone on the ship for the same amount of time, Jon included. Trip sighed as he tried to puzzle out what was going on.

"Trip?"

He started, becoming aware of his surroundings. He was in the mess hall, sitting at a table with Hoshi and Travis. And judging by looks on their faces, they had just told a very funny story and he hadn't laughed at the punch line.

"Sorry, guys," he apologised. "I guess I spaced out there for a minute."

"That's okay," said Travis. "After all, space is the best place to space out."

Hoshi groaned. "In case you hadn't noticed," she said, "Travis here is the master of the terrible joke."

"What do you mean 'terrible'?" asked Travis in mock outrage. "I happen to think my jokes are pretty funny."

"Shows what you know…"

Distracted again, Trip let their playful bickering wash over him. Jon had just entered the mess hall, with T'Pol and a group of rather doleful looking aliens in tow. Despite the fact that they were on their way back to Earth, Jon just couldn't pass up a first contact, and so he was spending the evening entertaining a group of Yingari. However, judging by the expressions on the aliens' faces, Jon wasn't going to have a fun time of it.

Hoshi followed Trip's gaze across the mess hall. "You know, it's nice to see you and the Captain back on good terms," she commented. "Of course, these aren't the best circumstances, but at least it means you're friends again."

"What do you mean?" asked Trip curiously.

"Well, the Captain was pretty angry about the whole cogenitor incident," replied Hoshi. "It wasn't hard to detect the bad feeling between you two."

"What's the 'Cogenitor Incident'?" said Trip, subconsciously giving the phrase capital letters. "And why should it cause bad feelin' between me and Jon?"

"Uh, never mind," said Hoshi quickly. "It wasn't that big a deal really."

"When did this happen?" asked Trip. Hoshi and Travis gave each other uncomfortable looks. "When?" asked Trip again, a little more forcefully.

"About a week before your accident," said Travis finally.

"Sorry, Trip, we' didn't mean to upset you," said Hoshi. "We assumed you knew about it."

"I haven't got that far through the logs yet," replied Trip. "But I've got a feelin' I might be skippin' ahead now."

* * *

Trip paused outside Jon's door, his hand hovering over the door chime. After his conversation with Hoshi and Travis, he had immediately gone back to his quarters and found the log entitled 'Vissian Cogenitor'. Upon reading it, his first impulse had been to talk to Jon about it, but now that he was actually here, he wasn't so sure. What if mentioning it raked up again all the bad feeling it had apparently created the first time around? Trip wasn't sure why he liked spending time with Jon quite so much, but one thing was for certain: he didn't want Jon to be angry with him…again.

However, the decision was taken out his hands by the sudden opening of the door in front of him. Quickly he jumped backwards to avoid being walked into by Jon as he exited his quarters. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite quick enough, and the two men fell in a heap in the corridor. Trip ended up lying underneath his friend, and was shocked to feel a sudden warmth spreading through him as Jon shifted on top of him. Hurriedly he extricated himself from under the other man.

"Sorry about that," he apologised as he helped Jon to his feet, refusing to acknowledge the strange fluttering in the pit of his stomach as Jon's fingers touched his.

"No problem," replied Jon. "Uh, did you want to see me about something?"

"Well…" stuttered Trip, trying to organise his thoughts.

"Yes?" prompted Jon.

"It's…it's nothing," said Trip, suddenly not wanting to be in close proximity to Jon any more.

"Well, obviously that's not true," said Jon. "Otherwise you wouldn't have been standing right outside my door waiting to be walked into." Taking Trip's arm, he steered him into his quarters. Trip, distracted by Jon's hand on his arm, didn't have an opportunity to escape. Dropping into a chair, he looked up to see Jon watching him.

"Well?" said Jon, still looking for answers.

Trip changed his mind. Suddenly he decided that it might be a very good idea to bring up a topic that would create some 'professional' distance between them. "I wanted to talk to you about the Cogenitor incident," he said bluntly.

Jon's face tensed. "I thought you hadn't got that far in the logs," he said quietly.

"Yeah, well, I got a heads up about a few things," said Trip. "Why didn't you tell me about how bad things were between us before my accident?" he asked.

"Because it didn't matter," replied Jon. "Your accident made me see how stupid it was for us to be at odds like that. And even before you were hurt I deeply regretted the things I said to you. What happened was unfortunate, but your heart was in the right place. At the time I was angry at you for screwing up a first contact, but then I came to see that I was being unreasonable."

"But from what I can tell, you had a right to be angry with me," said Trip. "And not just about the Cogenitor. I'm not blind, Jon. Readin' all those logs has shown me that I wasn't exactly the most diplomatic or cautious person on this ship. I seem to have got myself into trouble every other week, right from the beginnin'. Let's face it, I begin by gettin' pregnant, and end up by losin' my memory. Not exactly the greatest track record, is it?"

"You're not the only one who gets into trouble around here, Trip."

"Yeah, but I'm the best at it. I'm amazed you've kept me around for as long as you have. Surely Starfleet has someone better qualified for this mission than me. Someone who doesn't try to get themselves killed on a regular basis, or ruin every first contact."

"Trip, you were…are…the best qualified person for this mission. I can't think of anyone I'd rather have as my Chief Engineer. And besides, you're my best friend. You keep me sane and stop me getting too serious, and I wouldn't ever want you to change. I know if the Vulcans had their way, every crewmember on this ship would be a trained diplomat, and an emotionless automaton to boot. But then we'd have lost everything that this mission is about. We may be human ambassadors to the cosmos, but that means that we have to show the cosmos what humans are really like. And you, Trip, are just about the most perfect example of a human I can think of. You're kind and generous, funny and big-hearted. And although those qualities may get you…and me…into trouble sometimes, I wouldn't have you any other way. Hell, if I didn't want you on board this ship, do you think I would be trying so hard to help you get your memory back? I could just have dumped you back on Earth, and left without a backward glance. But I wouldn't ever do that, Trip. Because I want…need…you here with me."

Throughout this impassioned speech, Trip had felt something crystallising inside him. He now understood his desire to spend as much time as possible with Jon. And he understood the source of his butterflies when Jon had touched him earlier. He was in love. He was in love with this man who stood in front of him. It didn't matter that to all intents and purposes he had only known him for three weeks. Jonathan Archer was the most amazing person he'd ever met. Anyone who could put up with all the crap Trip had apparently dealt out over the past two years, and still want to be friends with him, had to be pretty special.

All of his feelings were now as clear as day to Trip, but he had no idea how to convey them to Jon. He had a feeling that if he tried an eloquent speech like the one Jon had just given, he would end up stumbling over his words and utterly muddling his meaning. So instead he settled for an action that would convey all his meaning without the need for words. He kissed Jon…

…and was utterly devastated when, instead of returning the kiss, Jon hurriedly backed away, muttering something about "not being able to do this."

Suddenly mortified, Trip retreated hastily towards the door, mumbling some completely inadequate apologies. He saw that Jon was trying to pull himself together with the aim of comforting his upset friend. But Trip didn't want Jon's pity. Mumbling "sorry" once more, he bolted.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Anarian rebels return, intent on finishing the job.

Jon couldn't believe it

Trip had kissed him.

The thing he had wanted for so long had finally happened.

And yet it wasn't real.

Jon knew that Trip had only kissed him out of some misguided sense of gratitude. He knew it. There was no way he was even going to contemplate any other reason. Because if he did he would allow himself to get his hopes up. And he would inevitably be disappointed.

And besides – Jon allowed himself to entertain his wildest dreams for one tiny second – even if Trip's feeling were real, this was the new Trip. The old Trip – if he ever returned – would never feel this way. And yet again Jon's hopes would be dashed.

So he had backed away. He hadn't allowed himself to melt, even for one moment. Because that way lay disappointment and heartbreak.

However, he couldn't get the look of betrayal on Trip's face out of his head. Trip had obviously placed all his trust in Jon, and Jon had thrown it back in his face. But in the end, it was for the best. Jon knew that Trip didn't really love him, and he had guarded his own feelings for far too long to let them show on the strength of one mistaken kiss.

So caught up was he in his thoughts that it was several minutes before Archer realised he was being commed.

"Ensign Sato to the Captain."

"Archer here. What is it, Hoshi?"

"There's a ship approaching at high warp. It's the Anarian rebels, sir. They've obviously escaped custody, and are looking to finish what they started."

"On my way."

* * *

Archer reached the Bridge just as the first burst of weapons fire rocked Enterprise.

"Hail them," he barked at Hoshi.

"I've tried, sir. They're not responding."

"Hull-plating is polarised, sir," reported Reed. "But their weapons are high yield. We won't last very long under a sustained attack."

"Last time we managed to disable their ship…eventually," said Archer. "Can we achieve the same goal a little more quickly this time?"

"I believe so," replied Reed. "I still have the scans of the ship's configuration that we gained during our last encounter. If I can score a direct hit on the underside of one of their nacelles, it should overload all their power relays. They would be dead in the water, sir."

"That sounds like a plan, Mr. Reed. Do it."

* * *

Trip stood by his window, gazing out at the stars. He had thought that he would never get tired of this view, but now he was starting to wish that Enterprise would reach Earth a little more quickly. Although, to be fair to the beauty of the star field, his desire had a little more to do with Jonathan Archer, and less with the wonders of space.

He couldn't believe he had been so stupid. He had ruined everything. Jon had been the best of friends to him – both before and after his accident – and he had messed everything up by being far too impulsive. He should have spoken to Jon about his feelings, not kissed him. Although it was obvious that any way of telling Jon that he loved him would have garnered Trip the same result. The look on Jon's face as he had pulled away had said it all. There was obviously nothing he wanted less than to be kissed by Trip Tucker.

Trip was so lost in his misery that he was completely unprepared for the weapons fire that rocked the ship. He was knocked to the ground, impacting with a thud that left him gasping for breath. Pulling himself upright again, he struggled towards the panel on the wall with the aim of comming the Bridge to find out what was going on. But another weapons impact sent him flying across the room. His head collided forcefully with the desk, and he slipped to the ground, unconsciousness overtaking him. One word escaped his lips as the blackness descended.

"Jon…"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trip gains a whole new set of problems.

Trip stirred groggily and then groaned. His head was throbbing and his body hurt worse than it had when he had been beaten up by Zho'Kaan. And that time it had been pretty bad.

Trip's eyes flew open as he realised what had just happened. He had remembered! He had remembered how much he had hurt after his scrap with the Arkanian. Quickly, he tried to conjure up another memory. The first one that emerged was his Xyrillian pregnancy. He grimaced as he recalled the embarrassment of showing his bump to a group of Klingons.

The memories were coming back thick and fast now. There was the time when he and Malcolm had been stuck in Shuttlepod One together. The time when he had been stranded with Kaitaama and their constant arguing had morphed into something a little more…friendly. The time when he and Jon…

Jon. Suddenly his newly regained memories of his friendship with the Captain crashed headlong into the memory of what had happened the previous night.

He had kissed Jon.

He loved Jon.

Trip eyes widened as he realised that regaining his memory hadn't erased his newly discovered feelings. He couldn't deny the love he felt for his best friend, but on the other hand, having feelings for a man was a totally alien concept for him. His heart felt like it was being pulled in two different directions.

Then he realised. It didn't matter what he felt. Because Jon didn't feel the same way. The memory of Jon pulling away from Trip's kiss had asserted itself, and suddenly Trip felt like finding the nearest airlock and jumping out of it. And with that thought he abruptly knew that, alien concept or not, his feelings for Jon were total and absolute, and were not about to go away.

Trip stood, and then wobbled slightly. He knew he should contact the Captain and tell him that his amnesia was cured, but he couldn't face the prospect of seeing Jon right at the moment.

"Tucker to Phlox."

"Phlox here."

"I'm comin' to sickbay, Doc. With some, uh…good news."

* * *

Trip tried to sit still as Doctor Phlox completed his examination, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from fidgeting. Part of him wanted to find Jon and declare his undying love to him, but the other half of him wanted to run and hide so he'd never have to see the Captain ever again.

"Well, you seem to have made a complete recovery, Commander," said Phlox as he put away his scanner. "It seems that archaic Earth comedy was right after all – another bump on the head will cure amnesia. How do you feel?"

"I feel fine, Doc," replied Trip, jumping off the biobed and heading for the door.

"Because, if you don't mind my saying, you seem a little distracted."

Trip halted and sighed. He had been hoping that the Doctor wouldn't notice anything, but obviously Phlox's perceptiveness was on high alert today.

"I've just regained my memory after a month of amnesia, Doc. I think I'm allowed to be a little distracted."

But Phlox wasn't to be put off so easily. "Are you sure there's nothing else, Commander?" he enquired. "Something to do with the Captain, perhaps?"

"How did you know that?" exclaimed Trip, before he could bite his tongue.

"Ah ha, I knew it!" said Phlox triumphantly. "It is quite obvious from the way you have been looking at the Captain over the past few weeks, Commander, that you have developed feelings for him. At first I thought it was just simple gratitude, as he was helping you through a difficult time, but it soon became apparent that it was something more than that."

Trip could feel himself turning scarlet under Phlox's intense gaze. "It's nothing," he muttered. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," replied Phlox. "It never ceases to amaze me the way humans hide their feelings under certain circumstances," he mused. "In some ways you're worse than Vulcans, you know."

"It doesn't matter," repeated Trip more firmly. "Jon…the Cap'n…has made it quite clear that he doesn't feel the same, so can we just drop it, please?"

"If I might enquire, how do you know Captain Archer doesn't return your feelings?"

"Because when I kissed him last night, he nearly ran a mile!" Trip cursed under his breath. Why couldn't he learn to keep his big mouth shut?

"Well, Commander, I'm quite sure that his 'running a mile', as you call it, had nothing to do with any lack of feeling for you," said Phlox. "While it is quite obvious that you have feelings for the Captain, it is even more obvious that the Captain is in love with you, and has been for some time."

Trip laughed mirthlessly. "Have you been samplin' your own drugs, Doc?" he asked. "If the Cap'n is in love with me, why didn't he want to kiss me?"

"Did Captain Archer say anything as he withdrew from your…encounter?"

"Actually, he did," said Trip, surprised he hadn't remembered it before. "Somethin' about 'not being able to do this'."

"Well, there you are then!" said Phlox. "It's obvious that the Captain simply didn't want to take advantage of you in your current mental state. It's perfectly possible that he had misconstrued your feelings as gratitude, and didn't want you to do anything you might regret later."

Trip felt a small flame of hope ignite inside him. "Do you really think that's possible, Doc?" he asked quietly.

"No, it's not possible," replied Phlox. "It's eminently probable."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trip confesses all to Jon.

Pacing his cramped quarters, Trip mentally put the finishing touches to his plan. His discussion with Phlox had not only crystallised his own feelings, but had also convinced him that he had do something about them. Namely, confront Jonathan Archer. However, he didn't just want to show up and declare his undying love for his best friend. Well…he did, but along with his memory he had also regained the Trip Tucker evil streak. Trip wanted to be with Jon, but he also wanted to have a little fun first, to pay the Captain back for keeping his feelings hidden for all these years. He had asked Phlox not to notify Archer of the change in his condition, and while the Doctor hadn't been privy to Trip's exact idea, a smile had promised his complicity in whatever Trip was planning.

But for the moment, he had to wait. The firefight with the Anarians had, at the same time as restoring his memory, caused some more minor damage to Enterprise. As well as creating another diplomatic situation with Ambassador M'Nor that Captain Archer had to deal with.

So Trip was waiting. And thinking. And waiting some more, until such time as Jon would be free to receive his punishment.

"Archer to Tucker."

Trip jumped slightly. Why would Jon be calling him? Surely Phlox hadn't broken his word already? With a slight feeling of disappointment that he wasn't going to be able to carry out his plan, he pressed the comm button.

"Tucker here. What can I do for you Ca…Jon?" Trip held his breath, waiting to see if Archer would tell him off for the use of his first name. Chief Engineers in possession of all their faculties were not supposed to be that familiar with their Captains.

"I'm just checking to see if you're alright, Trip. Enterprise got pretty shaken around back there."

Trip let out his breath. Of course. This was Jon. The Jon who was in love with him. Naturally he would be calling to check up on him. It seemed that Trip's secret was safe for a little longer.

"I'm fine, Jon. Although, as a matter of fact, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you about. Are you free for a chat?"

"Sure, Trip. Why don't you come to my quarters? I'm just about done with the damage reports, and I finished dealing with Ambassador M'Nor about half-an-hour ago."

Perfect. Jon's quarters was exactly where he wanted to have this conversation. Much more conducive to the hoped-for outcome than the ready-room, for example. Trip smiled wickedly, glad that Jon couldn't see him.

"I'm on my way."

* * *

"So, Jon, how was Ambassador M'Nor?" Although he was anxious to put his plan into action, now he was in Jon's quarters, Trip wasn't exactly sure how to begin. So for the moment he was sticking with safe subjects.

Archer grimaced. "She apologised again, profusely, and immediately dispatched three ships to pick up the rebels. She's taking no chances on them slipping away again. Unfortunately, it's going to take a week for those three ships to reach our position. So we've been ever-so-politely asked to keep an eye on the rebels until they arrive. Luckily, their engines are completely destroyed, ditto weapons, so that shouldn't be too hard. I've already contacted Admiral Forrest and told him that we'll be a little late. I guess the upside of this is that we'll have more time to work on your memory."

Suddenly, Trip saw an opening. "Yeah, well, I've been thinkin' about that, Jon. I think that the process might go a little more smoothly if you weren't hidin' somethin' from me."

"What on earth do you mean, Trip?" Jon tried to keep his voice innocent, but Trip wasn't fooled for a second. He had seen the flash of panic in Jon's eyes, and was struggling to keep a wicked grin off his face. Part of him knew he shouldn't be enjoying this, but a bigger part wanted to make Jon squirm, and was contemplating his revenge with glee.

"You can't fool me, Jon. I know there's somethin' you haven't told me." The panic in Jon's eyes increased tenfold, and Trip decided to take pity on him – up to a point. "And I know what that thing is."

"Trip, I…"

"Jon, I know you love me. And I also know that you don't want to hurt me." Trip decided that it was time to bring out the big guns. "But the thing is, Jon, that I love you too. Obviously my kissin' you yesterday didn't convey the message properly."

Jon sighed. "Oh Trip," he said. "You don't love me. You just think you do, because I've helped you and been kind to you. But it's just gratitude really. And I can't take advantage of you like that."

"Why don't you let me decide whether I want to be taken advantage of?" replied Trip. "I may have lost my memory, but that doesn't mean I've lost my mind too. Don't try and second-guess my emotions, Jon. I know what I feel for you, and it ain't gratitude." He hadn't intended to become angry, but Jon's denial of Trip's feelings, and his unwillingness to admit his own, even though they had been friends for years, had combined to really piss Trip off.

Jon raised his hands placatingly. "I'm sorry, Trip. I didn't realise you felt that strongly. I believe you." And Trip could see that he did, could see the belief filtering through Jon's brain. And the hope that resulted from it. And the common sense that just as quickly squashed that hope.

"I believe that you love me, Trip. I do. But it doesn't change anything. Because as soon as you regain your memory, your feelings will change. Trust me at least on that. You, Trip, are the most emphatically heterosexual man I've ever met."

"But what if my feelin's didn't change?" persisted Trip, knowing that he would have to put Jon out of his misery very soon, partly because he didn't think he could keep himself under control for much longer.

"That wouldn't be the case, Trip. And I don't think that either you or I could cope with the repercussions of anything that might happen now, in this situation."

Trip stood up from the chair where he had been sitting, and crossed the room to where Jon was perched on the edge of the bed. Kneeling beside him, he took Jon's hand in his own.

"Jon, my feelin's haven't changed. They're just the same now as they were yesterday, before I hit my head again and got my memory back." Trip watched as his words hit home, Jon's eyes widening in shock, his grip on Trip's hand tightening involuntarily.

"Trip?" he whispered, and Trip instantly understood every question behind that desperate plea.

"It's me, Jon. I'm here. I'm back. And…I love you. Nothin' will ever change that, not even another bump on the head." Trip grinned. "Like it or not, you're stuck with me." Then he sobered. "It's time to stop hidin', Jon. Time to stop runnin' away."

Jon looked at Trip, a smile gracing his own features. "Yes, it is," he replied. "It's time to do what I should have done a long time ago, and particularly last night." Bending down, he planted a kiss on Trip's lips. It lasted for a few seconds, but as he went to pull away, he felt Trip's hand snaking around the back of neck, holding him close.

"Oh no you don't, Jon. I'm never lettin' you get away again."

&lt;!-- end story --&gt;


End file.
